


Frozen Solids

by WhoopsOK



Series: Damp [16]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Play, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dom/sub, Enemas, Gross, I cannot be any clearer, M/M, Multi, Scat, Shit-wank, Squick, Sub Dean Winchester, Temperature Play, Unsanitary, repacking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:48:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21537733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoopsOK/pseuds/WhoopsOK
Summary: “You said you wanted it harder.”(Sam makes a frozen treat that isn’t going in anyone’s mouth.)Heed the tags.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: Damp [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/442312
Comments: 12
Kudos: 69





	Frozen Solids

**Author's Note:**

> POOP. There’s poop again! They’re doing extremely unsanitary stuff with poop! If that is not your cup of tea, then please, by all means, skip this story. I want you to have a good time, doll.
> 
> …This is really, probably the grossest thing I’ve ever written. But. I, uh, happened upon a video a while ago and it gave me an idea, hence this!
> 
> Belated Kinktober Day 25: Scat ~~and olfactophilia if ya nasty~~

Dean comes back from a solo hunt feeling loose and happy.

It was an easy hunt; a cabinet-banger that wasn’t even really all that aggressive, a quick salt and burn at the graveyard. He’s still a little hot and sweaty, but it’s not the pained kind. It’s more like he just got a good work out and topped it off by doing ninety down the highway with the windows open. All in all, a damn good day.

When he gets back to the bunker, he half expects Castiel and Sam to still be out. It’d been their weekend to go on a date—Dean was _not_ going to be seen watching a teen drama in public—and Dean had actually been happy to take the case solo when it came up just as they were about to leave. Sometimes things just work out that way.

However, to his surprise, as soon as he enters the main room, Castiel is coming towards him.

“Hey you,” Dean says, then doesn’t say much else because Castiel’s tongue is in his mouth and, wow, ok, he can roll with being pizza-manned.

Dropping his things unceremoniously onto the ground, Dean’s heart stumbles in his chest when Castiel grabs him by the wrists. Slumping against the wall, Dean lets Castiel take over his mouth, crowd his senses. Arousal spools tight in his stomach as Castiel presses all along his front, only casually, _frustratingly_ letting their hips meet.

Their breaths are coming in heavy pants when Castiel finally pulls back, reluctantly, stealing a few almost thoughtless kisses. Dean is buzzing inside already, too warm, too turned on, drunk on Castiel. It takes a moment for him to find his voice, to remember that he even had a question when he’s content to just let Castiel kiss up his jaw.

Dean flexes his wrists, sparks hot when Castiel doesn’t let him go, squeezing tighter instead. “Ok,” he says slowly, “What’s this all about?”

“He told me to distract you,” Castiel answers instantly, making Dean’s stomach flutter more than Castiel’s teeth scraping under his ear.

“Why?”

“Because.” Castiel— _Cassie_ teases.

“Don’t be a little shit,” Dean says, ducking his head to bite Castiel’s neck in retaliation. “Because what?”

“Because I was setting something up for you,” Sam calls from the door way, and _oh_ , his hair is pulled back and he’s got his sleeves folded up to the elbows. Dean doesn’t know what that means other than that he’s _in for it_.

Dean takes a breath, shuffles on his feet, glancing between them for a clue he doesn’t get. “Oh. Uh, what sorta something, Sam?”

“Sammy,” Sam corrects, smiling when Dean shrinks in on himself, wide-eyed and trusting. Then he laughs. “Or _Doctor_ , if you’d like.”

Castiel giggles and Dean is suddenly glad he’s still holding his wrists, feels grounded under the pressure.

“I need a doctor for something?” Dean asks, eyebrow arched as Sam approaches them. He blushes instantly when Sam’s hand comes to rub his stomach.

“You’ve been having some stomach problems recently,” Sam accuses, a dark smile on his face. “I think a treatment is in order.”

“Sammy?” Dean croaks, then Sam is kissing him.

“Have you gone today?”

Dean is _shaking_. He swallows, attempts to speak, but just shakes his head.

Sam tuts. “Then we’ll have to do something about that, won’t we?”

“Green,” Dean blurts, because he has too many things crowding his head to sort out any of his questions or get cheeky.

Sam laughs, kisses him again before nodding over his shoulder. He starts away without looking to see if they’re following, knows very well that they are. “Take Dean’s clothes off before you come in.”

“Yes, Sammy!” Castiel answers, leading this time, Dean the lost little one being pulled along by the wrist. It’s a weird sensation, being under Castiel like this, but he feels just as safe as he always does even if his tummy is twisting with nerves. It settles some as Castiel undresses him, kissing him anywhere that happens to be within reach of his mouth. He presses a final kiss to Dean’s knee as he leaves his clothes hastily folded outside the door. “Come on.”

There’s a blue trash bags spread over a sleep mat Sam has laid out in one of the spare rooms, a potty-training pad on top of that. The room has a thick sort of _body_ smell that has Dean’s heart pounding in his chest. His gaze lands on an opaque plastic bag on the ground, a box of nitrile gloves beside it. “Sammy?”

“You said you wanted it harder,” Sam explains and Dean’s ears start ringing.

The memory of Sam’s fingers pressing up against him, Castiel hard and hot and sweet all along his front as he whispered his dirtiest desire flings to the front of his mind instantly. He gets hard so fast he gets a head rush even as he thinks this can’t be happening, he doesn’t understand _how_ —

“ _What?”_ Dean gasps, then jerks at the snapping sound off to his right. He looks over to see Castiel’s hands covered in tight black gloves, a filthy smile creeping over his mouth. “You—”

Sam grabs Dean by the chin, forces his gaze back. “You’re going to be good for us, aren’t you?” he asks. “So we can reward you?”

Dean doesn’t realize he’s going to drop to his knees until he’s already there, chin still in Sam’s grip even as it tips his head back awkwardly. “ _Yes, Sammy,_ ” he says, then whimpers when Sam leans down to kiss him possessively.

“On the bag, on your side,” Sam instructs as he kneels as well, reaching for the box of gloves.

Sam is going to have to expressly order Dean to do everything going forward, because he’s so mind blown at the prospect of _‘harder’_ that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Well, mostly. When he goes down on the bag, he pulls his top knee up to his chest, because he understands at least _part_ of what has to happen here.

His hunch is proven right when Castiel gets in the same position as before, one gloved hand pressing Dean’s thigh against his chest. “It’s so nice when you’re easy,” he observes, kissing Dean’s cheek.

Face burning with embarrassment, Dean can’t even work up the sass to smirk “ _You calling me a slut, baby?_ ” He just turns his face into his arm. “Shut up.”

“Aw, he’s shy for a slut,” Sam says teasingly and Dean is just about to muster up the gall to say something bratty when his mouth snaps shut as the tube of an enema bottle is sliding into his ass. The rush of cool shouldn’t be particularly arousing, but the way his cock throbs between his thighs would imply otherwise. He wiggles against the feeling, breath coming out on a slight whine when Sam reaches around to rub his tummy. “You know the drill.”

Dean does, so he waits out his time, hardly able to focus enough to answer when Sam asks how the hunt went, when Castiel recounts the plot of the movie they’d only half watched.

When an uncomfortable roll passes through Dean stomach, he instinctively clenches up. It’s not as urgent as last time; he hasn’t been _holding_ it. It’s not too late for him to stand and make it to the toilet on his own. “I have—I have to go now,” Dean confesses, red in the face.

“Ok.” Sam replies, only to immediately push down on Dean’s shoulder when he starts to sit up. “What are you doing?”

“I’m—I have to—” Dean stares up at him in shock, because Sam _knows_ where he’s trying to go, there’s only one place he would be going right now. But Sam looks _perplexed_ , he can’t… There’s no way he means for Dean to—

“Did you think I put the pad down for fun?” Sam says, fingers digging in hard to hold Dean down even though he hasn’t tried to move again.

Dean stomach swoops at the implication, eyes wide before wincing half shut as his stomach cramps again. “ _Sammy_ —”

“You’re not going anywhere, Dee,” Sam interrupts firmly.

“On his back, please?” Castiel asks.

“Sure,” Sam replies and Castiel takes that as permission to grab Dean by the knee, rolling him over.

The movement is quick intentionally, startles Dean so badly that before he can right himself, he feels a spurt of liquid shit escaping him. “Wait!! I—I can’t—Please, _Sammy_ ,” he cries and, fuck, he is crying, but he can’t help it. He’s trembling with the urge to hold it back, clenching as tight as he can even as Castiel holds his leg open, Sam grabbing the other and pulling it wide, too. Dean is shaking too hard to even put up a good fight.

“Can’t hold it?” Sam sighs teasingly. “Of course not, you’re such a dirty baby, aren’t you?” He leans over Dean with a sharp smile. “You _want_ to shit yourself.”

Dean is going to hyperventilate at this rate, the way he’s carrying on whining. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Castiel ball up his fist, glove stretched tightly over his knuckles. It’s not a hit, but it might as well be, because when Castiel presses his fist against Dean’s slightly swollen tummy, it knocks the breath right out of his lungs.

Holding it isn’t even an option anymore.

The sound of losing control of his shit is somehow worse without the echoing of a toilet bowl, nothing to suppress the bubbling and gushing coming from his ass. Dean is sobbing because he can’t quite shake the embarrassment, but as always it feels so fucking good.

“Push it out, Dean,” Castiel says and Dean does, right in the middle of the floor he bears down and forces it all out. He can feel it seeping under him, splattering his ass as it just pours out of him.

“Stinky,” Castiel says, laughing at Dean’s teary, red face.

Dean’s voice breaks around a shaky little “ _Ohh_ ” as he covers his eyes.

“No, open your eyes,” Sam says, shaking the leg he’s holding. “Look at what you did.”

“ _Sammy_ ,” he cries, but lowers his hand obediently holding himself spread. The pad and the bag beneath it are a mess, but he is still hard as a rock, cock standing up proudly while Dean sort of wants to sink into the floor. “ _Fuck._ ”

“Don’t look away,” Sam warns him. Dean feels his stomach twist with nerves when the plastic bag rustles just out of sight.

Castiel slides two fingers into Dean’s ass—already loose and wet—grinning when Dean cries out, clenching around him. “Emptied you out so we could fill you up, right, Sammy?”

“That’s right, baby,” Sam says.

The first thought Dean has is that it’s a toy. There aren’t many dildos around the bunker, but it wouldn’t be a shock to find one he hasn’t seen before. Then his brain goes blank except for a soft ringing in the back of his mind when he registers _that’s not a toy_ Sam is holding in his gloved hand _._

Dean starts to speak, but the words get lost in his mouth, he has no idea what to even say. It’s _big_ , not enough to be absurd, people _do_ shit that much, but he can imagine having to struggle and grunt to get it out and the thought that it’s going _into him_ —

“Color?” Cassie asks, smirking at him, scissoring his fingers.

 _Brown._ Dean thinks blearily, but adjusts his grip on his legs as Castiel’s finger slide free leaving him achingly empty. “Green.”

The first thing that occurs to him, startles him out of his nerves is that it’s _fucking cold._

Sam must’ve put it— _who’s is it, fuck_ —in the freezer to get it to hold together while he pushes it into Dean’s ass. “ _Hhhh—Sammy…_ ”

“Relax,” Sam says, but doesn’t stop pushing the thick log _in, out, in more, out more._ “You don’t want to break it, do you?”

No, Dean really doesn’t because, _fuck_ , it’s such a disgustingly good feeling, the drag and smear of hard shit pushing up into his ass. The chill makes his insides ache against the slide of frozen shit, someone else’s— _his brothers’_ shit pressing all along his insides, up and up and—

“ _Yellow,_ ” Dean whimpers through his teeth.

Sam pauses. “Yeah?”

Dean feels his lip wobbling, the embarrassed urge to cry creeping up the back of his throat as his dick dribbles on his stomach. He forces himself to speak before they can get worried. “I’m gonna—I’m gonna come.” His brothers look shocked and delighted, before their faces tip towards confusion.

“You don’t want it yet?” Castiel asks and Dean is really tearing up now.

Yes, he does, he wants to come so badly his dick is throbbing and his head is spinning. But he also doesn’t want this to end so quickly. He hasn’t really thought about making himself last with them in so long it’s weird to try now. There’s nothing he can do to make them love sex with him any less, but this is… different. It’s _gross_ and they’re doing it, yeah, but just for him, because they love him and know he’s a dirty little slut for them. He doesn’t want to waste this time—

“You know this isn’t a onetime thing, right?” Sam asks and Dean hadn’t realized he was staring at him until he blinks back to reality. The shock he’s feeling must be obvious on his face, because Sam smiles softly, like Dean is silly and Sammy loves him very much. “We can do this again after you give your ass a break.”

“You…?” Dean starts, but then just gapes at him like a fish. He doesn’t ask ‘ _really?_ ’ because Sammy would never say something like that just to make fun. Sammy doesn’t lie. Dean can have this again, he’s allowed to feel as good as he wants as fast as he wants _right now._ “ _Thank you._ ”

“Mm.” Sam leans down to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Color?”

“ _Green,_ ” Dean says.

“Hold on,” Castiel says, leaning away. “Go slow.”

“Ok?” Sam answers, but eases the rest of the shit in until it’s almost fully inside Dean and Dean is heaving for breath. “No more to go, Cassie.”

“That’s ok,” Castiel says and Dean’s heartbeat trips in his chest when Castiel comes up with a handful of Dean’s shit. He scoops the shit onto Dean’s dick, jacking him off with the it and Dean’s vision blurs.

“Cassie, _Ca—hah!_ ” Dean starts wailing, openmouthed and loud, bucking up under his brothers’ hands.

Sam pushes in until the tip of his finger is just inside Dean’s hole, holding the shit packed tight up inside him. “Filthy thing,” he says, sounding almost admiring as he lets the tip turtle against his hand. “You’re really getting off on this, huh? You like having shit on your dick, being stuffed all full of _us_.”

“ _Yes,”_ Dean cries, holding his legs open so harshly there’ll probably be bruises later. He clenches and feels the poop inside him shift. “ _Sammy!_ ”

“He’s so hard,” Castiel observes over the sticky sound of his glove smearing shit all along Dean’s erection. “Are you gonna come for us now?”

“Push it out,” Sam growls at him before he can answer, spreading his fingers around Dean’s dirty hole.

The feeling of the greasy-wet turd passing back out of him as Castiel quickly pulls him off his more than he can take, feels better than he could possibly articulate. He comes in streaks over his chest, dribbling over Castiel’s glove, down to the shit sitting on his stomach. “ _Ohh fu-huck…_ ”

“Good boy,” Sam says and Dean twinges all over with pleasure at the words. “There’s a good boy.”

Dean is sobbing, it’s so good. He can barely hear them over the blood rushing in his ears. Even when he sags, starting to come down, they keep their hands on him— _Castiel holding his dick, Sam’s fingers still against his hole_ —because Dean is trembling and crying. When Castiel lets him go, the shit-sticky feeling of his glove pulling away from Dean’s dick tingles all over his skin, not to mention the rush of gooseflesh when Castiel balances with his hand on Dean’s bare stomach.

Castiel tuts at him, leaning down to kiss the tears off Dean’s face, kissing him easily when Dean turns to catch his lips. “Where are you now, Dee?”

“Green,” Dean chokes out, curling to hide his face in Castiel’s throat. “So good, _so good_ , Cassie, Sammy…”

“We’re glad, baby,” Sam says, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “Can we help clean you up or do you need to do it yourself?”

It feels like some part of him should be embarrassed, should want to clean up alone considering they only did this because of him. Another, bigger— _littler_ —part doesn’t want to be left alone.

“Stay?” he asks softly and they smile at him.

“Of course,” Sam says.

Dean is only allowed gloves and baby wipes at first, wiping himself down enough that he doesn’t drip onto the floor while he’s gathering up the mess into a big plastic trash bag. Sam doesn’t make it seem like an intentional power trip when he steps back, snapping his gloves off to hold Castiel in the crook of his arm as they watch Dean scrub bleach into the part of the floor the bag couldn’t save. It does put a submissive flutter in Dean’s stomach, though. Enough that he gets back on his knees when they crowd the shower.

Judging by the sounds echoing off the tile and the sting of eager fists in his hair, he makes good use of his time down there.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading… you’re beautiful even when you’re all gross
> 
> Comments are moderated, so if you want to yell at me in private, just tell me you’d like me not to publish it and/or delete it.
> 
> The series is marked as complete with this, not because I’m never coming back to it. Just because this is all I had planned for the moment. Should the idea strike me, I’ll strike back!
> 
> (Unsexy reminders: If you’re going to put something frozen inside your tender bits, make sure it’s not sugary and has begun to melt first so the outside is quite slick—think about tongues on frozen poles. Also, as one might guess, there isn’t a whole lot of medical research on shit kink, so play safely, dolls. And always pee after sex, especially sex that involves shit.)


End file.
